After Sharif Returns
by smileyanne
Summary: We never see what happens after Jenny realizes she was right. Set after Sharif Returns.


_A/N: I just realized the other day, that we never see when Jenny realizes she was right._

_DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN NCIS_

* * *

She'd known something was wrong.

He'd had this haunted-more than usual- haunted look to his eyes. He'd been distracted, staring off into space at odd moments. He'd been stiff and tense.

It had reminded her of how he was after the coma, when he'd get a flashback and remember something.

She'd _known _something was _wrong_.

Of course _she_, colonel blonde bimbo, hadn't wanted to believe her. In truth she couldn't really blame her, the situation did make it seem as if she was just a jilted ex girlfriend becoming possessive of something that wasn't hers anymore. And Jethro's little stunt in her office hadn't really helped matters any.

Still, earlier in MTAC she'd been desperate for the blonde to realize something was wrong. After all _she _still had power over him whereas Jenny only had it in the capacity of being his boss, and barely that.

When her speech had failed to make any impact on the Colonel (who could really blame her considering she'd never had to face the possibility of loosing him?), she'd gone back to her office and tried to get some paperwork done.

_That _endeavor had failed miserably, and she'd ended up pacing her office nervously. All the while pretending that she _wasn't _pacing, and that she didn't care what happened to him.

That whatever did happen-he deserved it.

Or at least she told herself that.

Vaguely, she wondered if he had been poisoned with BZ gas. If it had just been some latent form of it? Granted it was a possibility, but wouldn't the Colonel be showing symptoms also?

She really tried hard not to focus on why they'd both been tested. Or what they'd been doing before they'd came to Ducky at elven at night, _together_.

The ringing of her desk phone, interrupted her thoughts.

Again she'd really tried hard not to focus on the way she lunged to her desk, grabbing the desk phone up in one hurried motion. And later she'd remember only the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she listened to Tony's voice floating over the line.

_'We caught Sharif, Colonel Mann had to shoot him...Jenny, it's Gibbs...The bastard got him with the BZ gas apparently...It took him down, and paralyzed him...He's going to be okay, but the paramedics are taking him to Bethesda...'_

She'd left the phone on the floor in her office as she grabbed her jacket and ran out the door.

* * *

She arrived at the hospital in a way that was _so _reminiscent of her reaction after receiving a call about the same man being caught in an explosion. And it was just her luck that again she'd found an unhelpful nurse, but this time she'd only had to _threaten _to call Condi.

This time he was in a room and not in ICU.

She hoped that was a good sign.

After strutting through the maze of hallways, she'd finally found the room she was looking for-room 406. It was a decent sized room, with a glass wall that looked out into a hallway that led to a waiting room and a nurses desk that was a few feet down.

Now, she was standing in the dimly lit hallway outside his room, in the shadows in the vain hope that the people in the room wouldn't see her.

Of course it was the usual people-the people she expected to be in there; Tony who sat on the windowsill his head in his hands probably berating himself for not realizing it sooner. Ziva, standing in the corner of the room looking for all the world that she wanted to go out and bring Sharif back from the dead only to torture him slowly. Abby and Tim, who sat in the stiff armchair while Tim tried to console a despondent Abby.

And of course- in the center of it all- was a large, sterile, white hospital bed where a prone Jethro lay. Lying there, hooked up to all those monitors, he looked...

_'Oh god, he looks dead,' _she thought horribly. Her heart started hammering wildly in his chest, laying there with his eyes closed a pinched and bloodless expression. He honestly looked...dead.

_'They would've told me if he'd died,' _she thought rationally. She was trying to calm herself down enough, so she didn't barge in there and demand Jethro to get up out of bed and be _okay_.

She knew she was thinking crazily, but the team's expressions didn't help matters either.

"Calm yourself, Jennifer. He's not dead," a voice with an English accent spoke from beside her. She glanced over to her left, where she could make out the form of their elderly M.E walking towards her from the waiting room. She'd been so caught up in her fretting that she had overlooked the fact that two people were missing from the scene in the hospital room. Ducky and..._her_.

When he came to a stop beside her, she turned her attention back to the picture imperfect family in front of them before saying, "Reading my mind now Ducky?"

"Hardly," he scoffed. It wasn't so much that he could read her mind, it was just that-to two people- Jennifer was an open book. Himself just happened to be one of those lucky people, Jethro being the other.

"Where did you get off to?" she asked softly. She would've thought Jethro's best friend would've refused to leave his side...

"I was talking to his doctor."

Unless, of course, he was twisting some poor doctors arm into giving them some answers.

"Is he alright?" she questioned without looking at him. She wasn't looking at Jethro either, she was looking through the glass wall, over DiNozzo's shoulder and through the bay window on the other side. If she looked at either of them- she was pretty sure her voice would come out as a weak tremble, and she needed to say together for this.

So she focused on the night light's of Washington D.C, and waited for the answer that could throw everything to shambles.

_Again._

"He's..._going _to be alright," Ducky spoke slowly, and she didn't miss the emphasis on _going_. Turning slightly so that she was angled towards him, she questioned him wordlessly. He lowered his eyes and spoke to his shoes when he said again.

"Jennifer...the BZ gas...it- it made him hallucinate. And...with his already recent memory loss...well...there could be future complications," Ducky spoke slowly, trying to find the right words so as not to send the redhead into a fit of worry. His efforts were wasted when she simply arched an eyebrow at him, in silent demand for him to elaborate on what these 'future complications' could be.

He looked exasperated when he turned back to looking at the man lying in the bed. There was no way in hell he was going into detail about what could go wrong with Jethro in the future. The team and everybody else may not think this, but he was well aware of just how protective the two old partners were of each other.

"What you have to understand...is that the BZ...it was _literally _causing Jethro to-to...loose his mind," he spoke to Gibbs when he said this. Looking at his best friend as he thought about the whole list of things that could impede his healing process, but Jenny heard him anyway.

She let out a shaky breath and leaned some of her weight on the wall behind them. Her hand trembled slightly when she ran it through her loose hair, pushing it out of her face as she closed her eyes briefly. She let out a weak little laugh, "You're telling me he had a mind in the first place?" She joked feebly.

Ducky easily saw through her.

"Relax Jennifer," he soothed her firmly, turning to her and placing a hand on the upturned arm she had buried in her silky strands. He pulled it down gently and placed it by her side, rubbing comfortingly a few times, trying to rid her of the goosebumps he felt riddling her skin. He reached up and captured her delicate chin, and with some prodding made her look him in the eyes when he spoke again...

"He's been administered the antidote. It was given to him as soon as the paramedics reached him. The paralysis has worn off now, and the hallucinations should be ending soon. Right now...he's just extremely..._tired, _sleeping is about all he can do...He's exhausted Jennifer," he said the last part with a little one shoulder shrug. Looking her in the eyes and basically telling her what will come will, and there was nothing anyone-not even her-could do about it.

She'd be damned if that were the case.

Trying to make it as subtle as possibly, Jenny extracted herself from Ducky's hold. Turning back to the hospital room, her eyes finally roamed over the still form in the large bed. Ducky thought Jethro was sleeping...she'd spent years lying next to him, holding him as he slept.

She knew what he looked like asleep, and this wasn't it.

She snorted softly and rubbed her mouth with her hand, trying to hide the wry grin forming. Everyone in that room thought Jethro was sleeping, he convinced everyone that he wasn't poisoned and loosing the thin grip he _did _have on sanity...

The man deserved an Oscar.

"Where's Colonel Mann?" She spoke into her hand. She honestly didn't care about the answer, didn't give a damn where that woman was. But she couldn't think of anything else to say, and part of her had expected Jethro's current squeeze to be in there holding his hand.

"I don't know," Ducky answered simply, looking straight ahead. She threw a questioning glance his way, but otherwise she let him get away with his little white lie. He looked back at her, acknowledging what neither one was saying, and both of them relaxed against the wall. Each of them standing in peaceful silence, and taking the opportunity to relish in the way Jethro's chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

As she and Ducky stood in the shadows together, a nurse came down the hallway from the direction of the waiting room. The petite woman in the crisp white uniform walked straight past them and through the door of the hospital room.

They watched as the grey headed woman spoke to the team softly, neither Ducky nor herself could make out what she was saying. But each member of the team rose fluidly from their various positions standing watch, all of them with displeased expressions. The elderly nurse held the room door open for them as they silently filed out one by one, none of them speaking before making their way down the hallway, through the waiting room and out of sight. She noticed with none to little amusement, how just before they turned the corner Tim's arm slid around Abby's shoulders.

Though clearly the visitor hours were now over, Jenny and Ducky made no move to leave. Instead they stayed where they were and watched as the nurse checked over Jethro's vitals, and after that did a little tidying up.

Jenny ignored the way her gut twisted as she observed the nurse's hands lingering just a little _too long _while pulling Jethro's blanket higher up.

_'What's she doing? Tucking him in?' _She thought bitterly, her fists clenching at her side.

Ducky laid a restraining hand on her shoulder, and he didn't move it until the poor woman was out of the room and safely stationed behind the nurses desk.

They both pretended nothing had happened when his hand slipped off her shoulder, and they both relaxed again in the silence surrounding them.

"You know," Ducky spoke hesitantly and mentally she prepared herself for whatever he was about to say. "You really should...go in there, and see him."

"It might comfort you some," he added quickly at her look. Silently she turned back to the room, thinking about it.

Visitor hours were over, and while normally that wouldn't of deterred her. The fact that Jethro was just feinting sleep, did.

Turning back to Ducky, "Visitor hours are over," she reminded him. They both new that wasn't a valiant excuse, while Ducky was guarded with the title of Jethro's personal physician, Jenny was sheltered behind the title of being a federal agent's boss.

But those little nurses could be _mean_.

Ducky leaned in closer to her, with a look of good natured humor on his face, he whispered to her as if they conspiring to take over the hospital itself.

"I'll stand guard."

So that decision was made for her, and with only a slight hesitation she pushed herself off the wall and walked the width of the hallway. Straight to his hospital room door, all the while trying to ignore the gloating eyes of the man that was staring at her back.

She didn't pause, didn't want to have Ducky's prompting start up again. And with a newfound sense of determination, she opened the doorway and walked into the room, letting the door fall shut softly behind her.

There she stood for the moment, even though she was just on a different side of the glass wall. She felt like she was in a whole different world, and giving herself a moment to take it all in was only natural.

Or so she told herself.

Either way, her eyes took in the sight of the man lying in the bed in front of her, and her heart started beating a little faster in response.

Jethro's tanned skin from the sunny beaches of Baja, looked inexplicably pale against the snowy bedding. For some reason, he looked skinner-skinner than he'd even been after returning from his margarita safari. His usual large and intimidating form looked tiny, even in the medium sized bed. The bags under his eyes and the shadows marring his features gave him a sickly appearance.

Well...she guessed he _was _sick.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs, sick and vulnerable.

Involuntarily she shuddered at the mental image that gave her, those words should _never _in the history of mankind be used to describe him. Or even be used in the same sentence as _him_.

"Jethro," she spoke, her voice scratchy.

He still tried to continue his faked slumber.

"I know you aren't asleep," she said in a tone strengthened with conviction. Moving forward, she strode with quick steps, to the side of his bed-...

...the side that just so happened to be blocking Ducky's view of him-...

and waited patiently for him to give up on his scheme.

It didn't take long, maybe he'd simply gotten tired of pretending, but his head turned up and towards her. When his eyelids fluttered opened and the last of the game was finally given up. She tried to ignore the heartbreakingly feverish and glassy look to his beautiful blues when she teased him gently.

"You faker, you."

One side of his mouth tugged upwards, a silent response or an admittance. She lowered her eyes demurely, and was almost shocked when she felt his warm large palm wrap around hers loosely.

Her head snapped up in shock-not that she was really complaining, but was he holding her hand?

Apparently not, considering that with a little firm maneuverings on his part he managed to get her situated sitting on the edge of the bed beside him.

Right where he wanted her.

Still locked in his intense gaze, she wondered how to break the awkward silence. She knew what she could ask, even though Ducky had told her the majority of things. She didn't want to hear from their mutual friend that he _might _be okay _eventually_. She wanted to hear from Jethro himself how he was doing, a question that if she wanted to get an honest answer to...she'd have to catch him in _just _the right mood.

"So, you were hallucinating," she said in a casual tone, as if that were an everyday saying. Taking the chance that he would answer her was like winning the lotto, there was a one in a million shot.

His eyes opened again, and she semi wondered when they'd closed. She was looking into his now troubled gaze that was filled with the recent flashbacks of distorted memories. His cracked lips opened and he rasped out with a shrug, "He poisoned my boat Jen."

That made sense. If him and Hollis had been together that night, and only Jethro had gotten the poison. Well, she was almost 100 percent positive they would've both touched the bourbon at least once. That left only the boat, the one thing that Sharif had known Jethro was sure to touch.

"I'll help you destroy it," she said, mimicking his shrug.

He smirked at her simple answer, an answer that was much more symbolic than it seemed. Poisoning the boat was something that breached every security Gibbs had, it was an unspeakable act of treachery. Maybe it would teach the bastard not to leave his front door unlocked anymore...

Looking into his eyes Jenny realized that, that was just it-Jethro _didn't _feel secure anymore. And that was something that was most likely going to cause trouble in the near future, Jethro had already been a careful man. This was just going to turn him into a paranoid.

_Great._

He shut his eyes again and turned his head away from her, as if he were tired. She should've left then, just let him go to sleep for real this time. But she doubted he would, there was something that was bothering him, and keeping him from sleeping.

"Why were you faking?" She questioned gently, reaching up to touch his face. Coaxing him to open his eyes and look at her, she tried to ignore the way his rough skin felt under her fingertips as she concentrated on extracting answers from him.

"It's easier that way," he whispered hoarsely. And although he didn't elaborate on anything, she understood what he was talking about. Jethro had just had who knows how many, or how violent of hallucinations and was most likely still having them. Bringing up good and bad memories, and warping them into something twisted.

As much as she knew he loved the team, and the team loved him. That wasn't something they could help him with.

But maybe she could?

"What did you hallucinate about Jethro?" She asked, and before she even realized what she was doing her fingers started skimming up and down his cheek. Her fingers trailing his distinguished jawline and her hand coming up to cup the side of his face.

He groaned softly, at the question or at her touch, she didn't know. But secretly, in some deep dark, unexplored, Parisian themed part of her mind- she hoped it was her touch.

Still the groan was his only response to her question. She watched in silence as his eyelids fluttered at the comforting feeling of her hand, and she pondered if she wanted to continue with her plan of action.

If Jethro had been having hallucinations, they could've been about any number of things. Even though she was in a higher position in the chain of command than him, and _should've_ technically had more experience than him in the field. She'd never been under any illusions about _that_, and while she had seen some pretty gruesome things in her time. Jethro was a man who had done active duty for years, and Black Ops after that...

If he was reliving memories...one's that could probably make _Ziva's _hair stand on end. Did she really want to know?

But it might not have been war hallucinations, or even job related ones. It could've been ones related to memories she was in..._good _memories, and even though he was back at work now he was still trying to remember everything that the coma had taken from him. Did she really want him to have the memories he did have of _them_, warped?

So she was really going to go through with this.

"Shannon and Kelly...," she started hesitantly. Even though she really hoped none of the things that had been a product of Sharif's torture, were about her. She'd even sacrifice the memories of Europe that she held so dear, for them not to have been about Shannon and Kelly. The two people's memories that Jethro had to recently deal with making themselves known to the people in his life.

He didn't need Sharif to rub salt in his wounds.

"No," he assured her quietly, not giving anymore than that.

She let out a relieved sigh she didn't even realize she was holding. One down-a lot more questions to go...

"Kuwait...?" She drew the word out.

"Some Desert Storm," he conceded in a croak, dismissing it as nothing. But was it her imagination or was he pressing his face just a little more firmly into her touch?

"...Europe?" She asked breathlessly, and deliberately left it vague. Even though she had full access to his files now, the only time she'd ever used that power was after the explosion when Jethro had refused to wake up.

And even then it had felt like a violation of his privacy.

So maybe if it were things in Europe he had hallucinated about, they weren't about their time there?

One could only hope.

But any of _that _flew out the window at the look he gave her. It was equal parts hesitance and evasion, and with that she knew that at least some of the hallucinations that hadn't been war ones were about their time together.

_'Oh, no,' _it felt like her heart was lead.

Together they sat in silence, her hand on his face stilled, resting cupping his cheek. And his hand still had a loose grip on her knee, his eyes watching her closely. While she stared off into space, getting lost in her own thoughts.

She was soon brought out of those enticing memories when she felt an arm wrap around her waist. Her head spun at the feeling in shock, as she felt a gentle tug on her torso-urging her to lay back. After a second of shock, she gave into him and allowed herself to be pulled down on the bed beside him. Laying on her back beside him, she tilted her head up to look him in the eye, asking him silently what the hell he was doing. Instead of responding verbally to her, with his one arm he tucked her closer to him and buried his face in her hair.

There was nothing romantic about this, it was just comfort. At least she told herself that as she shifted onto her side and curled up closer to him. Her hand coming up to rest on his chest right where she could feel the beating of his heart, and her head was pillowed on the muscles of his shoulder.

It felt good to be so close to him again, and she tried to forget that if she just told him the things she was hiding from him. Then there was a possibility that she could be like this with him permanently...

She closed her eyes against the 'what if's'. Neither of them could think like that...

"You do remember what's real and what's not about..._us_?" She asked him quietly, not wanting to ruin the newfound intimacy/nostalgia of the moment. And well...she wasn't really sure she wanted to know the answer to this.

He didn't make her open her eyes, didn't pull her chin up to look her in the eye when he answered her. No, she felt him bury his head deeper in her short hair, and tighten his one armed hold on her.

"Why don't you remind me?" His voice was muffled, his breath tickling her scalp. And she had the strangest urge to giggle, because this was all so absurd! Jethro had just gotten poisoned with something that was designed with the intent to drive him mad, and here she was curled up in his hospital bed with him! In an embrace that to others would've screamed that they were freaking married, when she was the one that said no off the job! While they danced around their past, if he actually remembered the truth about them-he'd never even said!

But that didn't matter to her, because she finally acknowledged that she didn't want to move. She just wanted to lie here with him, relish in the feel of his heartbeat under her fingertips. Wanted to forget that their was a Frog out there that needed hanging, and that there was a missing blonde Colonel that would claw her eyes out for this.

She wanted to revel in the memories of their glory days with him, one more time.

Moving his head out of her silky red..._spikes_, he opened his eyes and met her now open ones. Adjusting their position a bit more, she moved to where his head was resting in the crook of her neck, one of her hands still over his heart and the other threading through his hair. The arm around her waist tightened even more, and the other moved to rest protectively on her hip.

And she shut her eyes, lulling him into a real sleep with her sweet caresses...

...In his ear, she whispered a story of twinkling lights, exotic places, and dangerous people,,,,,,

Their story.

* * *

Outside the glass wall, in the darkened hallway, Ducky stood and was soon joined by a notorious blonde Colonel.

"I thought you'd left," Ducky spoke quietly, keeping his eyes on the two forms in the bed.

"I forgot my coat," she whispered back, and with a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. Ducky realized she was standing riveted by the sight of the red and silver heads.

For the sake of propriety he tried to not let it show just how happy he was with the scene in front of them. Tried not to let it show that if the blonde dared to go in there, she would not only have one angry redhead to contend with. But a spitting Brit on her heels also.

"So are you going to get it?" He challenged, turning to look her full on.

Finally the blonde tore her eyes away from the hospital room and turned to look him in the eyes. The look of hurt and trepidation there, made Ducky sober somewhat.

But no matter how much it hurt the poor woman in front of him...He wasn't going to let her ruin his two friends efforts to make their way back to each other.

"Her," he said, tilting his head slightly, indicating Jennifer, "If you want him. You'll have to be prepared for her also...They're a packaged deal."

Colonel Hollis Mann didn't speak, instead she turned and started walking back down the hallway towards the waiting room.

Coatless.

Trying to repress a slightly happy smirk, Ducky slowly moved and lowered himself to the floor, leaning back against the wall.

He'd stay there tonight, on the cold hard floor, guarding the two old partners. It wasn't so much that he believed something would come of this, but if the way they were holding each other was anything to go by-they needed this.

So he'd stay and watch as both their breaths evened out, and sleep claimed each of them.

After all he would hate to see what Jennifer would do if that poor nurse dared to come back.

* * *

_A/N: I hate it. Absolutely hate it, there's no plot and no reason to it. __I don't think it's AU so I apologize if you think so. And by the way if you want any information on why I took down Not Her, check my bio._

_If you don't like it. Don't review._


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